Telephone Wire
by ssshhhipping
Summary: Jesse Randle doesn't want to leave the comfort of the only home he has known. But, after the sudden death of his mother, he is forced into life in Tulsa, Oklahoma where he reunites with his estranged brother and learns how to forget the past and move on best as he can. However, he didn't predict that life in Tulsa could be so wild and only one person can help him through it.
1. Chapter 1

I kicked at a layer of late summer dust and felt the knots and in my stomach tighten. I couldn't help but feel as if this was all just a vivid dream and I would wake up any moment and all the insecurity and anxiety would vanish along with the clouds of dust.

There was a lump in my throat that just wouldn't go away as I stole a glance at the ranch house behind me that had been home to me and my mom for nearly six years. I honestly had no idea what was going to happen to the house when I left and took any evidence that someone had lived there with me. I sighed, resting my chin in my hand as my mind wandered to mom. That was her house, her farm, her memories. If I tried really hard, I could still catch the faintest scent of her rose perfume when I walked up to her room which was dominated by a queen sized bed and a portrait of her and her horse, Oliver. I didn't want to forget her scent or the way her nose crinkled slightly when she laughed or how her French toast on Saturday mornings tasted. I could feel stealthy tears prick the corners of my eyes and I wiped them away immediately. I wasn't going to cry, I had cried enough already.

In an attempt to push all thoughts of my mother from my mind, I glanced over to the neighbor's house where I knew my faithful border collie, Mustang, was going to stay. I couldn't take my dog with my to Tulsa, it just wasn't possible. I turned him over to the neighbors and asked if they could take care of him. They were a young couple with two playful kids and I just hoped Mustang didn't give them too much trouble. I was secretly hoping that the neighbors would emerge and give Mustang back and tell me they couldn't keep him and I should take him with me. That didn't happen though. The only movement around me was a fancy looking car pulling into the dirt driveway in front of me. I had been expecting my social worker, Ms. Collins, for over an hour. The house was locked up, I had a suitcase and my backpack at my feet, ready to go at anytime. It was my entire life stuffed into my mom's old suitcase and my tattered blue backpack that I had used for school for the last two years. Shit, this was real. This was happening, and I had to get over it. I couldn't sit on the front door of my old house forever and just cry about my mom and my dog as much as I wanted to.

Ms. Collins, slender and sure of herself, stepped gently out of the car, her heels scraping against the packed dirt that led up to the ranch house. I clambered to my feet unsteadily and didn't bother to meet her gaze. I merely slung my backpack over my shoulder and allowed her to lift my half-full suitcase into her trunk. I slid into the backseat and resigned to staring out the window in a tight-lipped silence. She didn't say anything except for her standard, "everything's going to be alright, Jesse." before starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. I took one last look at the house, ignoring the years blurring my vision. I didn't even get a stupid picture or anything. I guess sometimes life screws you over like that.

xxx

I must have dozed off after we left the house because when I awake again, confused and nearly starving, it was dark and the only light was a dim streetlamp that illuminated the car. I noticed that Ms. Collins was gone from the front seat and I peered out of the window, fogged up with my own breath, I noticed her standing at the front door of a run-down house with an overgrown garden and chipped paint on the door. My stomach nearly did a somersault. I wondered if they still hated me.

I waited somewhat patiently for Ms. Collins to return to the car and she opened my door, surprised to find me awake and alert. I slowly exited the car with more reluctance than usual and grabbed my backpack from the seat next to me. She lifted my suitcase out of the trunk and put both of her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to lock eyes with her.

"Stay strong, Jesse." She instructed and I wanted to scoff and roll my eyes and tell her she was just saying that because she had to. Another part of me wanted to fall into an embrace and just let her comfort me and make her take me back home or just anywhere else. I was not ready for this. I went with the third option which was muttering a quiet "thank you" before solemnly dragging my feet up to the front door which was wide open, the bright light spilling out into the garden and providing a false sense of security. I hesitantly pulled my bags inside and closed the door behind me. I took in my surroundings with a deep inhale and couldn't help but feel disappointed. I could see my father seated at the rickety wooden table, a few empty aluminum beer cans surrounding him. A lean figure was sprawled out across the couch that I assumed was my brother. His dark hair was loaded with grease and I cringed, running a hand through my own mop of sandy blonde hair that was free of any product. Was that how they wore their hair in the city?

"Steve, git off the couch and make some room for yer brother to sleep on it." Dad instructed in a gruff voice and I sighed. I guess sleeping on a couch that was most likely older than me was better than having no place to sleep at all. My gaze trailed to my older brother and I felt a pang of guilt resonate in my chest. I could only barely recall swapping letters back and forth for about a year after I left Tulsa with mom. He wrote about his best friend and how mean dad was. I wrote about mom and horses and chickens. It was barely a relationship and the distance only grew the six years I was away from him. Hell, I wouldn't have recognized him at first if not for the fact he was in the house. Steve gradually rose to his feet, not even looking me in the eye as he cleaned up around the couch. I pitifully dragged my bags over to the couch and settled into the side, wanting desperately to just dig the stuffed dog mom had given me years earlier out of my bag and try to convince myself everything would be fine. I didn't though. I stayed still and hardly even flinched when Steve announced he was leaving and slammed the door behind him, making the walls shudder. I could hear dad clamber to his feet in his semi-drunken state and he hovered over me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Good to have you home...kid." He announced, hesitating before the word 'kid'. The minute he retreated to his own room, I quickly retrieved my stuffed dog from my bag. Stuck in a place where not even my own father remembered my name and my older brother detested me for reasons beyond my control. Great.

I fell asleep with the dog clutched to my chest and I awoke the next morning with a blanket loosely hanging off my shoulders. I didn't care who put it there, but I convinced myself it was mom nonetheless.

xxx

Steve's POV

I shot back the last of my glass of whiskey and hardly cringed at the burning it left in my throat. I was used to it by now.

"Go easy, Steve." Soda warned warily and I rolled my eyes, but resisted saying something I would probably regret later on. Soda didn't do nothing wrong, I shouldn't take it out on him. I concentrated hard on the ball in front of me but as I pushed the pool cue forward, it sunk one of Soda's stripes anyway and I cured under my breath, pushing a hand through my hair. Alcohol and pool almost always took my mind off of my problems, but for some reason it just wasn't working as well as it always did.

My mom was dead. She had died last week. I was just now learning about this. My kid brother was probably terrified and where was I? At some shit bar ignoring my problems with two of my friends, drinking the night away. I had to stop this shit eventually, I'm nearly seventeen and I ain't got nothing to show for it except for a lifetime of bad decisions and my skill for fixing cars. Fixing cars wasn't gonna get me nowhere in life and I prayed everyday that I wasn't going to be stuck in this town. The second I turn eighteen, I'm joining the military and getting outta here without looking back. I ain't even told Soda yet, but it doesn't matter. I know he ain't going unless he gets drafted and that's somewhat up to fate.

Despite all the alcohol, my mind still wandered to the sight of my almost eleven year old brother, light hair falling into his eyes and a scowl plastered on his face. I felt partially guilty for just leaving the kid there alone to deal with dad, but I knew that it could have been worse. I decided I wasn't gonna tell Soda or the gang until tomorrow. Tonight was for drinking and forgetting my problems. Besides, everyone else has shit to deal with and I ain't got no business burdening them with my stupid problems. So what? I haven't seen my mom or brother since I was eight and suddenly they're the only thing on my mind. I sighed, bidding a quick goodbye to Two and Soda before ducking out the front door of the bar. They didn't try to stop me or nothing, which I was somewhat thankful for. I knew what I had to do.

I walked home in silence, every passing car making me flinchin anticipation, praying that it wasn't a soc looking for some late night action or something. I kicked at the sidewalk with my scuffed sneakers, letting my mind wander to whatever I could think of. I knew I was better off than the Curtis' which was mainly why I wasn't going around whining about my problems. Both of their parents, two of the greatest people I had ever met, were dead. It wasn't fair to any of us, especially due to the fact we had to keep on living after they had died and there was nothing we could do to erase the pain. Having your basically estranged mother die was nothing compared to having a person who acted more like a mother to you die along with the only father figure you've ever had. I knew I wasn't going through what Pony, Soda, and Darry we're going through, but they were some of the only parents I had ever known that actually cared about me and suddenly they weren't there. Was it wrong I cared more about the death of the Curtis' than my own mother?

I snuck into the dimly lit house, sighing with relief when I realized my father was probably asleep. I stole a glance at the couch where Jesse was curled into a ball, a tattered stuffed dog wrapped securely in his arms. I produced a small smirk before draping the light blanket from the chair over his shoulders, feeling momentarily guilty for leaving the kid alone while I tried to ignore his existence. Maybe it was time I started acting more like Soda and took care of the kid a little. Yeah, I think that would be good for me.

I just hoped that Mr. and Mrs. Curtis would be proud of me.

xxx

 **A/N: How was that? Constructive criticism appreciated! Let me know if you want another chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse's POV

I don't remember much of my early childhood.

I was only four when my mom packed all her belongings into two suitcases, took me, and lit out. I can remember drawing on the walls in the living room and the endless fighting from the kitchen. I can remember my first day of kindergarten and the way my mom tried to muffle the sounds of her sobbing whenever a new bruise showed up. I remember having my mom help me with writing letters to Steve, but that's where the memories of Tulsa stop. I don't think too much about junk like that anyway. Tulsa was never my home before, but all of a sudden I'm being forced back into it and just told to act like everything's perfectly fine.

By my second day I've worked out a routine.

Get up. Try to find something for breakfast. Sleep or watch TV. Try to find something for lunch. Wait for Steve to come back from school. Ask if I can go to work with him. Get denied. Sleep or watch TV. Ignore Dad. Sleep and repeat the next morning.

It's my second day here and I've just finished the first half of the routine and watched Steve leave for work. I know I looked sleep deprived and starved, but I decided to go on a walk around the neighborhood anyway. It was a crummy, run down neighborhood filled with delinquents and hoods. My brother fit right in. Me, on the other hand, did not. I was scrawny for my age but I had a good build because of years spent working on a farm. I had light dirty blonde hair that I didn't load down with grease or product and all my clothes made me look like a regular farm boy. I borrowed a cool looking leather jacket from my brother's closet that hung off of me like a robe before I left. Didn't make me look any less vulnerable though. Compared to everyone else, I looked like I wouldn't hurt a fly.

I wandered around the neighborhood blindly, making sure to memorize the street names in my head so I didn't end up lose in the middle of nowhere. It took me around twenty minutes, but I finally came across something that wasn't an old house that looked identical to ours in terms of shabbiness. It was a neat park tucked away behind a grove of oak trees with a fountain right in the middle and a couple of swings. It wasn't real fancy or nothing, but it was pretty cool. I sat down, my back leaning up against the fountain as I stared at one of the trees. I don't know how long I just sat there, but I must spaced off real bad. I have a tendency to do that sometimes, getting lost in my own thoughts and just letting my mind wander. The startling roar of an engine made me jump and I glanced around, trying to find out where the sound came from. I caught a glimpse of red rushing by and it calmed my nerves when I saw the car go flying past. I stood up, brushing the dust off of my jeans and scuffed sneakers. It was a good time to leave anyway, Steve would be coming home soon.

I took off in what was probably the wrong direction and just walked, falling in and out of daydreams as I searched the neighborhood for familiar signs that would point my way home. Only when I reached Sycamore street did I notice the noise of a car engine again and glanced behind me, noticing the same red metal from earlier. Was that car following me? I swallowed and began to pick up my pace, only lifting my eyes from the ground to look at the street signs. I could hear the engine stop but my nerves weren't settled because I also heard a couple of insults flung my way and the car doors slam shut. I didn't do nothing, why were they bothering me?

I was half jogging at this point, stealing worried glances over my shoulder as the group of well-built boys closed in. I could count about four of them, but I wasn't paying much attention to their numbers. I was fixated on the massive size of them all and wondered what the hell they wanted with me. I had never seen these guys in my life. I decided to turn around and face them off rather than run, they had probably just mistaken me for another guy or something. Yeah, that's it.

"Look, I think you've got the wrong guy. I just mov-" I began, but was cut off by a cruel laugh from one of the leaner guys who had awfully crooked teeth and dark eyebrows. He rolled his eyes and I felt myself cower in fear. I wished silently there was some unspoken way I could stand up for myself, but I knew I was basically defenseless against these guys.

"Shut it, grease." He snapped and I cocked an eyebrow. What did he call me? I was going to respond but before I could, two of his guys wrestled me to the asphalt while he hovered behind, laughing wildly with one of his friends. The blonde guy with a letterman jacket had his knee digging into my chest to the point where I was gasping for air and struggling to get out from underneath him. He slugged me a couple times and I nearly choked from the blood in my mouth. I mustered up enough courage to take a chance and I spat some up at them, which was probably an even bigger mistake. The largest one punched me a few more times and I could tell I was gonna have some real ugly bruises in the morning. The worst of it was, I had no clue why they were doing this and all I wanted was to burst into tears. I didn't do nothing to these guys and all of a sudden there were two bulky teenagers hitting me and kicking me like I was some mutt from the streets.

"You sure this is a good idea, Wes?" One of the more hesitant of the crew questioned and I considered begging them for my release. Hell, it may have even worked. I kept my mouth shut though as the guy named Wes told the first one to shut it. He turned to me, a sadistic grin on his face.

"We only wanna teach the kid a lesson, right fellas?" He sneered and I felt my stomach churn. I wondered what lesson they were trying to teach me and as Wes flicked out a long blade I started to realize that this wasn't a lesson I wanted.

"Get offa me! I didn't do nothing to to ya!" I started hollering at the top of my lungs, praying someone would hear me and come to my rescue. The blonde guy slugged me in the eye and I closed my mouth quickly, afraid he would knock out a tooth or something. Wes brought the blade closer to my face and I turned wildly from side to side, attempting to get free. I thought this was a great plan at the time, but unfortunately I brought myself closer to the blade, accidentally swiping my left cheek with it once or twice. I knew the cut wasn't too bad, but I could still feel the blood racing down my cheek and soaking up parts of my hair. Wes and his gang merely smirked, throwing one insult after another. I thought I was free when the blonde sitting on my chest began to climb to his feet and I scampered out from my spot on the concrete, but one of them grabbed my right arm and twisted it behind my back so hard that I thought it might break. He got me in a killer headlock and dragged me over to the fountain.

"We outta drown him," one of the gang sneered and I felt a tear escape from my eye. "One less grease on the streets." He laughed like he had just told the funniest joke in the world. I could smell his heavy, expensive cologne and whisky on his breath. "But we won't. Kid's learned his lesson, I think." He scoffed and shoved me down, my forehead colliding with the edge of the fountain. I blacked out instantly.

xxx

Steve's POV

It was getting on late and I couldn't find my brother anywhere.

Trust me, I felt like shit, but I wasn't too worried about the kid. Although, looking back I guess I should have been. I thought he had just gone for a walk for a couple of hours, but when I started looking for him it was nearly six and he had been gone three hours at that point. I had nearly searched the entire neighborhood and I was just about to call up Two or Dal or someone who could help me when I decided to have a look around the park before I went too overboard.

I kicked around the park, the gentle splashing of the fountain the only noise I could hear. "Jess!" I called into the darkness, waiting for any sort of response. I jumped when a low groan, nearly a growl, came from behind the fountain and my heart skipped a beat. Hoping it wasn't a feral dog or nothing, I cautiously peeked around the side of the fountain and caught a glance of my brother. Except, he hardly looked like my brother. He was curled into a ball, a small puddle of blood under his head and one of his eyes swollen shut. The open one looked up at me, fearful and trembling and I wanted to vomit. This was all my fault. I knelt down in front of him, gently running a hand through his blood-soaked hair.

"Hey, kiddo. What happened?" I questioned in a soft voice, knowing damn well what happened. Damn socs, thinking they own the whole town. Probably saw the kid and didn't like the way he looked and decided to pick on him. Except this was more than picking on a kid, this was jumping a guy and leaving him unconscious in the park. I groaned, closing my eyes and looking away from my brother so I wouldn't be sick. He looked like he had been to hell and back and I merely hoped I could do something to fix him. I placed a comforting hand on his forehead but he flinched away instantly and I shook my head. Whoever did this was going to pay.

"S-some guys," he coughed out with extreme effort. "They h-had a knife a-a-and..." He tried to stutter out the rest of his explanation, but his voice tapered off and a few tears began to roll down his cheeks, falling to the concrete below. I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be fine, even though I knew it wouldn't.

"Hey, don't cry kid, it's alright." I informed him, obviously lying through my teeth. He shuddered as sobs violently racked his body and I clambered to my feet, leaving him curled up near the water fountain. "I'm gonna go see if my friend can give us a ride home, alright?" I questioned, not expecting an answer and pulled out a couple of cents from my back pocket that I always kept in case I needed to use the phone after work. I rushed to the nearest pay phone, only across the street, and dialed the ten digits by memory. I only prayed that someone who wasn't Two-Bit or Ponyboy would pick up.

"Curtis household." A gruff voice answered. Just my luck, Darry. I couldn't quite tell if that was good or bad, but at least it wasn't Two-Bit. I could hear the nineteen year old's annoying laughter in the background and Dally yelling at him to shut up. I rolled my eyes, I did not have the time for this.

"Darry, it's Steve. Can you drive down to the park on Sycamore right now?" I demanded, hoping that he noticed the urgency in my voice. I could hear a long sigh on the other end.

"Steve, I really don't have the time for this tonig-," he began but I cut him off.

"Just get down here!" I shouted and before I could hear his reply, I hung up the phone. I knew Superman would me for yelling at him but I was too wrapped up in my own crisis to care about what Darry thought. I raced back across the street to the fountain where Jesse had propped himself up against the fountain and was wiping away any evidence he was crying. I sat down next to him, small drops of water falling into my hair from the fountain. I noticed two long cuts with dried blood crusted around them on his cheek and I exhaled slowly, hoping he wouldn't need stitches or anything serious. We sat there in silence for about five excruciating minutes before I heard a car pull up to the curb and the familiar honk of a horn made me jump. I scrambled to my feet instantly, holding out a hand for Jesse to hold onto as I pulled him up. He managed to get to his feet shakily, but placed as hand on his forehead and looked as if he was gonna be sick.

"You alright?" I asked cautiously and he nodded but kept a hand over his forehead as I led him to the car.

"Steve, what the hell did'ya call me down here for that was so important?" Darry demanded, obviously exhausted. I gestured towards Jess who was hanging onto my arm and fading fast. I scooped the crumpled form into my arms and laid him down gently in the backseat, for once noticing how small he was. I silently climbed into the front seat alongside Darry as he started the car.

"Steve, who is that?" He questioned in a whisper and I shot a worried glance to the backseat as he began to drive. Jesse was curled up, his mop of sandy hair covering his face. I sighed, wondering if I should tell the truth or not.

"My brother."

xxx

 **A/N: Thanks for** **the reviews guys! Hope you're liking the story!**


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